The One Where Malfoy Proves He's Not A Wimp
by georginacastleorpington
Summary: James Potter is in persuasive mode. He's got to convince Malfoy to lip-lock with his cousin, Rose, or Albus will never give him that 20 galleons. And he's got to get Fred to stop waving his Anti-Ginger-Racism petition around. *One-Shot*


So...it's the return of James and Fred in their sneaky little ways :) Because so many people loved the Fred and James from How To Marry A Malfoy, I thought I would whip up another quick story with them in, as they are a bit of fun to write.

**Here it is, another Sco-Rose with added bit of James-Fred funniness in the form of a little One-Shot. **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**The One Where Malfoy Proves He's Not A Wimp**

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the creepy descendant of the Malfoy Kingdom. What a surprise."

I can't help but snort at this little outburst. Honestly, what does he think he is? Some kind of villain from an extremely cheap muggle action film?

Does he genuinely believe that something as mundane as possibly asking me to lend him a quill, as he is most likely about to ask me, requires such dramatics?

"Spit it out, Potter. What is it now? Quill? Ink? Or do you want me to sign some kind of petition for fair treatment to gingers."

James Potter turns conspiratorially to his little pal, and cousin, Fred Weasley. "He's a strong one, this one," he says, casting an impressed look in my direction. Then he faces me, and stands up straight. "Witty, Malfoy. Very witty. But I didn't just come over here for some witty banter exchange. I came here for a reason."

I tap on my paper impatiently with my quill. "Well, get the witty banter over with quickly, I have an essay to write."

Fred Weasley side-steps his cousin, and pulls back the chair directly across from me at the table. He sits down with a wry smile. James Potter doesn't sit, and instead leans over the table as if I am a criminal he his interrogating. "Here's the thing, _Malfoy_. The cat is out of the bag."

"The kneazle is out of the satchel," Fred intervenes. A statement that is granted with two very puzzled looks from both myself and James. For once we are united in considering this guy a lunatic. "I thought I would wizard-ize it," he informs us with a shrug of his shoulders.

James ignores him and turns back to me. "The kneazle is out of the satchel, boy."

"What kneazle? And what satchel?" I ask, puzzled. I place my quill down on the table, and fold my arms. "You are severely confusing."

"Listen, you slimy little worm, we've known for a while about your little crush. There's no point pretending you don't know what we're talking about."

I frown at him in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. And that's not pretending. I honestly don't know.""_You_," James snaps loudly, leaning back off the table and pacing slightly along the top of the table, "Scorpius Malfoy, have a crush on _my _cousin."

I turn to give Fred a funny look, but he appears to be otherwise engaged in trying to look tough. It's not working, FYI.

James follows my gaze, and immediately snaps. "Not Fred. I'm talking of _her_."

"Seriously, James, if you're going to come up to me, disrupt a frankly very successful essay writing session and babble on incessantly, at least make it comprehendible."

"I'll give you a clue," Fred Weasley pipes up, looking extremely pleased with himself. "It begins with R…"

"…and rhymes with Nose Weasley," James finishes.

I blanch. "Rose?"

"I _knew_ it!" Fred announces, apparently to the nearest bookshelf. He looks at me and chuckles slightly. "You fancy my cousin!"

"Just because I can pronounce her name, doesn't mean that I fancy her?" I inform Fred calmly, before turning to James. "Where did you find this one?" I jerk a thumb in Fred's direction.

"My Aunt's womb. He's my cousin, dumb-arse." James shakes his head and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "You're trying to change the subject anyway, which only emphasises your _guilt. _It's alright Malfoy, I'm not here to warn you away from her."

That would be a first.

"Really, I'm not. Despite your obvious appearance as a heartless, selfish cad, the fact that your friends with my dearest brother shows that you can't be such a bad guy." James shivers a little bit at this statement. I think he never got over the fact that a Malfoy befriended his little brother Al, and that this brother was a _Slytherin_. "But I need your help."I grin in self-satisfaction. "Help? A Potter asking a Malfoy for help, there's a moment for the history books. What do you want?"

Fred leans forward. "Will you sign my Anti-Ginger-Racism petition? You see, I believe that the unfair and cruel treatment of this country is directly a result of the over population of the world with blondes who are basically gingers…just without the orange hair."

James pokes his cousin in the arm. "Fred?""Yes, dearest cuz?"

"Did I give you permission to ask the nice man to sign your petition?"

Fred shrugs nonchalantly. "I thought I'd give it a shot. You said he wasn't a bad guy. I figured he wouldn't mind a bit of legislation change in favour of the orange-headed."

I look at James. "I suppose you want me to do something else as well as sign your petition. And frankly, a signature is one thing, but what do I get out of this? It's not in the nature of a Malfoy to give unconditionally, you know?"

James pulls back another chair and sits down next to Fred. He smirks and for a second I think I am looking at Albie, that smile was so Slytherin-esque. "I believe that you would equally benefit from our little scheme."

"In what sense?""Not economically," Fred pipes up. "We figured that you already had enough money to keep you going for the next three hundred years. What we have to offer you is far more rare…and far more valuable…"

"What is it?" I roll my eyes. These two are just incredibly dramatic. They could just spit it out and the torment of waiting for them just to tell me would be over.

"All in good time, Malfoy," James tells me. He leans down and pulls out a small slip of paper. "Read this, and perhaps you will understand…" He slides the paper towards me, leans back in his chair with his arms folded, and nods at it with his head. "Read. I think you will find it of great interest."

_I, Albie Potter, will pay my devilishly handsome brother the grand sum of 20 galleons should my best friend, Scorpy Malfoy, perform lip interaction with my cousin. Rose Weasley, before the date of July 15__th__ (Graduation Day). _

_I, James Sexy-Beast Potter, will pay my loser brother the grand sum of 20 galleons should his best friend, Scorpy Malfoy, __not__ perform lip interaction with my cousin, Rose Weasley, before the date of July 15__th__. _

_Signed: APOTTER_

_Signed: JSPotter_

_Witness: _fred.

"I gather you drew up the legal document?" I say, sliding the paper back to James. He grins with satisfaction.

"Your little best mate is a bit of traitor, eh? Making a bet behind your scaly little back. Don't you want to get back at him…let him have a taste of his own medicine?…Maybe…Snog Rose?"

My mouth drops open. Firstly, Albie has not been a traitor. Alright he made a bet, but his bet was that I would _not_ snog his cousin before Graduation. I accept that, as it is perfectly true. I am never going to snog Miss-Prissy-Knickers.

Secondly, I am never going to snog Miss-Prissy-Knickers.

"Surprisingly, I can restrain myself."

James sighs. Why would he even think I would snog her? I do not fancy her, whatever creepy idea he has managed to plant inside his head. "Malfoy, you idiot. We know you fancy Rose. So it's simple, snog her sooner rather than later. You see," he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, "Albie didn't bet for the other way round because he thought you wouldn't have the guts to make your love known by the time school ends."

He _didn't think I had the guts?_

I may not be a Gryffindor, but I'm not a WIMP!

"Did he now," I say, rather violently, if I don't say so myself. My own best friend thinking I am a wimp…Truly a matter of betrayal, that one. "And why did he seem to think I don't have the guts?"

"Something to do with you having fancied her for four years and the nearest you got to asking her out was when you asked to borrow her Arithmancy textbook the other week," Fred interjects, apparently finding this story very amusing. "And I believe that was only the second time you spoke to her in your entire life."

James smirks evilly. "You really have a way with the ladies, don't you, Malfoy?"

I can't believe he told them about that.

That was the single most embarrassing moment of my life and I swore him to the utmost secrecy, and what does he do? Go and tell the two boys that were genuinely born with the biggest gobs ever to grace the planet earth.

He will pay for this. That boy is about to lose 20 galleons. "So I snog Miss-Prissy-Knickers, get back at my traitor of a best friend…and that's it?"

I may as well milk this for all it's worth.

"I say we increase the stakes. I want a 50% equity in the takings."

Fred gasps in disbelief. "Fifty!"

"How about 30%?" James suggests.

"45?"

"Not going higher than 40."

"45 or I'm gone and you'll be completely poor."

James sighs and holds out his hand. "Fine. 45%. You drive a hard bargain Mr Malfoy." I shake his hand with a stiff smile.

"Pleasure doing business, Mr Potter."

* * *

"I have issues to confront you with, Albus Potter."

Albie peers up from the Quidditch manual he is poring over to give me one of the most degrading looks I have ever seen in my life. "Use of the full name, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. I'm terrified. Quivering in my proverbial boots," he says sarcastically, eyeing me over the league tables from 1983.

I ignore his little bout of sarcasm. "So, I don't have the guts, do I?"

Albie frowns at me and gives me a queer expression. "Guts? What are you on Malfoy? Been at Trelawney's secret Firewhiskey stash?"

"I'm on about _you_," I point at him authoritatively, "and this little bet you made about me."

Realisation becomes apparent on Albie's face. "Ah! That bet! Who told you? I suppose my brother has been trying to convince you to get it done sooner. Only four weeks left, he's left it later than I thought he would."

"You seem rather cheerful that I'm considering letting him win."Albie peers up in slight shock. "You're not going to, Scorpy," he informs me, but he doesn't look entirely convinced.

I stand up, trying to look very confident and smart. "What makes you think I can't do it?"

"Shall I just act it out for you?" Albie puts down his book and adopts a strangely deep voice. " 'Err…Weasley…I mean….errr….Rose…Do you think I could…that is…Would you mind if I borrowed your Arithmancy textbook?'."

I clutch a hand to my chest in mock anguish. "Is that supposed to be me?"

"Why yes it is. You truly have a mind to rival that of Sherlock, Malfoy."

"Did I really sound like that?" I ask, wondering if I genuinely did sound like such a nervous bumbling idiot.

"What, like a lunatic on nervous pills? Yes. You did. And if you were just talking to her then, and it took twenty minutes of prep talking from yours truly," he points at himself, "then what's going to happen when you try kiss her?"

"I'll miss her face." I concede.

"Precisely."

* * *

Whatever. Albie may have put my confidence down to an all time low, but a Malfoy does not give up easily. I _will_ succeed. and I _will_ win that bet. It is to my financial interest that I do.

So, even if I am so nervous that I think my stomach is about to drop down to a region roughly three inches to the right of the little toe on my right foot, doesn't mean that I will give in.

I must remain strong.

It is simple. She is currently hanging out in the Gryffindor common room with James, Fred and a couple of the other Weasley crew. All I have to do, is pop in there, give her a quick peck, demand the money of my dearest best mate and leave.

Without vomiting.

"Nervous are we?" Albie says, practically skipping past me. "You can always back out…"

And so, with the help of Albie who knows the Gryffindor common room password, I walk into the room in what I perceive to be a display of utmost confidence. Albie, however, has a nice little chuckle at me from behind me.

And there she is, sitting in a corner reading some dorky little novel. I mean, a delightful novel. My hand shakes slightly as I lock my gaze on her. Target acquired, as they might say in a spy movie.

I ramble over to her, with my hands in my pockets, until I am standing right behind her shoulder, so I can read the book she's reading.

"So does Anne end up with this Elliot dude?"

She lets out a squeal and nearly jumps out of her chair.

"Sweet _Merlin_, Malfoy! Are you trying to murder me?"

I grin charmingly. "Anne. Mr Elliot. Do they end up together?"

"Well, I don't know do I, because someone just interrupted me when I got to the good bit," she says, giving me a punctuating glare.

"I'll let you read on if you do me a favour," I say.

She looks at me in puzzlement. "What, Malfoy?"

"Just close your eyes, when I count to three, OK?"She looks like she wants to hit me over the head with her novel.

"Three."

She closes the novel. Oh my lord, she _is_ going to hit me over the head with it. Don't panic, Malfoy! Remain calm!

"Two."

Oh, she just put the book down on her lap.

I smile at her in relief and she looks like she's about to laugh.

"One."

She gives me one last look before she closely her eyes tightly.

"Are you going to give me an early birthday present or something? If you are, it better be food-based, because - "

And then I lean forward and press my lips to hers.

* * *

_Albus sat down on the chair next to his brother James. "He's never going to do it. You do realise."_

"_She's put her book down," James warned him._

"_Seriously, he's going to chicken out and he'll end up asking to borrow her novel or something."_

"_He's leaning in."_

"_Shut up, James. I know you're winding me up. I spoke to him earlier on, and he basically admitted that if he ever tried to snog her he'd end up missing her face completely in panic."_

"_Well, he definitely didn't miss her face just then," James said, looking over at the duo with a slightly smug look on his face._

"_I'm sure he wasn't even aiming for her face. I told you, he's going to chicken out and run back to the Slytherin dorms weeping his eyes out because of his rejection."_

_James shut his eyes tightly. "Oh. My. Merlin. I think they're using tongues."_

_Finally Albus clicked and turned around. "Wha-?"_

"_Looks like you owe me 20 galleons, brother." _


End file.
